


Inter-dimensional Introductions

by lightanddarklove



Series: Can't Wander far in Gravity Falls [1]
Category: Gravity Falls, Wander Over Yonder
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Angst, Crossover, Gen, Mild Language, Self-Hatred, Spoilers - A Tale of Two Stans, Spoilers - Not What He Seems, Spoilers - The Waste of Time, Stan needs some sleep, Survivor Guilt, Sylvia and Wander's past, Sylvia is almost always the voice of reason, Wander needs to take care of everyone, minor alcohol mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-10-04
Packaged: 2018-05-30 22:13:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6443935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightanddarklove/pseuds/lightanddarklove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been 6 years since Stanford Pines fell through the portal and Stanley Pines took his place. Finally it looks like its all coming together but when the lights dim its not his brother standing in the basement of Mystery Shack, but two intergalactic travelers far from their home dimension.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Unexpected Visitors

**Author's Note:**

> It has been a long time since I did something like this. My old ff.net account that I had in high school was last updated in 2006. But the writing bug has bit me, and I have more than a few ideas for Gravity Falls (and likely Steven Universe). Here and there I've been doing little ficlets on my main blog: http://lightanddarklove.tumblr.com/tagged/my-writing and art blog: http://lightanddarklove-art.tumblr.com, but little more than a few hundred words here and there. Conversations with thesnadger (http://thesnadger.tumblr.com) have led me to this particular crossover, where several years have passed and Stan has got the portal up and running, only for Wander and Sylvia to be spit out instead. In her version, Wander and Sylvia have met Ford in their travels but I think its more interesting if they haven't, at least for this two-shot.
> 
> For those unfamiliar with Wander over Yonder, I recommend watching at least one episode before reading this fic, so you can get a better idea of the voice and feel of the characters, but there aren't any big spoilers for the show (other than minor spoilers for "The Hat", a season 1 episode). If you want an episode recommendation, I'd start with "The Good Deed".
> 
> I was going to make this all one chapter but I am way too tired to finish this so its gonna be a two-shot. Might make more at some point but this is all she wrote for now.

The lights flashed and the timer counted down as Stan patiently waited by the console. He’d been up for 18 hours but he’s had longer days before and its finally looking like they’ll all have payed off. Its been 6 years living as Stanford Pines but with a lot of time studying those physics books and the various mythical mumbo jumbo he thinks he might finally be able to bring the real Stanford back home.

His coffee has long gone cold by now but with minutes to wait he didn’t dare leave the room. 10 minutes seems like an eternity but he muttered, “After this, after he’s home, ya can sleep all ya want, ya old lunk.”

Another lurch of gravity had him clinging to the console as things float and papers scattered, coming down with an uncomfortable thud. It's all he can do to flick his eyes between the timer and the portal. He figured with the timer counting down all day, the least he could do was get dressed to something presentable, so after the tourists left he pulled out an old 70′s style brown jacket and white slacks to reunite with his brother. It was all over but the counting. Once Ford was home, he could go up and make him a proper meal and then a well-deserved rest for them both.

Once there was one minute to go he rose from his chair and went to go stand in front of the portal. There shouldn’t be another gravity anomaly, so he could afford to get closer, but he waited well behind the safety line. With a crackle of light and a loud whirring, the counter reached zero and the room went blinding white. In the brightness, he couldn’t quite make out more than a silhouette but it seemed like two figures were being hurled through the gaping maw of the portal.

Stan’s eyebrows furrowed as his eyes began to adjust.  _Maybe Ford had met someone special to him that he couldn’t leave behind?_ his brain puzzled. But as his vision began to clear and a deep but feminine groan left the larger figure he began to put the pieces together that the figures were not the one he was looking for.

“Syl?” the skinny orange creature whispered, still astride the blue beast. “You ok?” It leaned forward onto the larger one’s neck, placing its own face next to where its fallen companion’s ear would be.

“I’ve been better buddy,” the horse-like being replied. It was clear that was where the groan had come from, her voice scratchy and gruff, like a lady-smoker who had quit months ago. She rubbed her head and then her eyes met Stan’s. “Uh, Wander?” She said, trying to sit up. “Look’s like we’re not alone.”

“Huh?” It sat back on her saddle and looked up as well, its eyes following the blue creature’s gaze and finally catching sight of Stan. “Oh! Hi there!” It stood and smiled like this whole situation was completely normal. It raised its comically oversized green hat as it spoke in a light, high-pitched agreeable tone with a slight hick twang, “Folks call me Wander, and this is Sylvia.” He gestured to his fallen friend with its hand not occupied placing back on its hat. “We were just traveling and sightseeing on Phlaybar’s 3rd moon, when we came across this portal and kinda fell in.” He rubbed his neck sheepishly. “Is this your home? Are we intruding?”

Finally, Stan snapped out of his shocked reverie. “Yes,” he all but growled. “I’ve been searchin’ for my brother for 6 years, finally got his blasted portal working again an’ you two tumble out of it!” His shoulders shook with fury as he shouted. “If you two don’t mind going back where you came from,” punctuating this with a pointed finger at the portal, “I’ve gotta figure out why it didn’t pick up his signal, like it was supposed to, and seeing about getting him back before all I have left to bring back is a corpse!” 

Wander and Sylvia exchanged a look, Wander’s shocked and Sylvia’s angry. Before Sylvia could spout off with a retort, Stan raised a hand to his face with a hollow look in his eye and said, “Wait, neither of you found a skeleton that looks kinda like me, did ya?” Wander frowned with a pang of sympathy for the disgruntled man, and Sylvia’s glare simmered to annoyed pout.

“No, we didn’t see anything like that,” Wander replied in a low voice, finally getting off Sylvia and walked toward Stan as he turned away. Sylvia picked herself off the floor and dusted herself off. She scowled at Stan’s retreating figure. Stan placed the hand that was on his face over his heart and tried to slow his breathing. Wander approached the man and went to comfort him, despite being a stranger, but his attention was drawn back to his companion as she cleared her throat.

“Come on buddy, we don’t belong here. He wants us to go, right?” She called, Wander’s face turned back to her with a whine. “So let’s go.”

“But Syl!” He answered. “What about-”

The portal chose that moment to sputter and begin flickering. All turned toward it, mouths hanging open as its lights dimmed and died.

“No, no, no, no!” Stan shouted, running toward it.  He slammed his hands into the portal’s base as he had done once before. It remained silent. He turned and ran back into the control room, ignoring the stunned pair as they stared at where they had once come from. “Damn it, out of fuel! How am I supposed to get him home now!” He tried flicking the power switch off and on, but to no avail.

“There goes our ticket home,” Sylvia muttered, well out of Stan’s earshot.

“Oh boy.” Wander sighed. Sylvia’s eyes flicked from the deactivated portal to the control room and went to stand beside her friend as Wander stared helplessly at Stan, still struggling with the power switch.

Stan dragged the large barrels of toxic waste over to the fuel tank, trying to dump any last dregs into it to get it to start again, not even bothering with the gloves to protect himself. His safety was not on his mind; it was making things right again, what he had spent so many sleepless nights trying to do. What was left of the fuel was negligible and did little to fill the tank. Once he completely emptied the barrels, he tried the power once more but when nothing happened he screamed with rage, kicking the nearest barrel and leaving a large dent in its side.

”’S no good.” Stan muttered, his voice low and thick with emotion. “I can’t do it. Not without another run to the mud-flap factory, which its gotta be nearly dawn by now. It’s too risky. But damn it all, I almost had it!”

The alien duo looked at each other sympathetically and Wander approached Stan as his shoulders slumped and he dragged the chair beneath him to sit on. Sylvia stood in the doorway, eyes flicking between the pair as Wander pulled a box of tissues from his hat.

“Here, wipe off your hands,” he regarded Stan gently.

Stan took the offered tissue and did as he was instructed. He dragged his chair over to the desk and started looking through the books, turning the pages of an old, red-covered journal, trying to find answers he knew wasn’t there. He felt his eyes filling up and closed the book with a snap, shoving it into the shelf and dumping the other contents on the floor. Sylvia reached out and caught the ceramic mug before it shattered, but not without getting some of the liquid on her foot and some of the books. Stan rested his elbows on the table, one hand covering his eyes and the other fisting in his hair. Quiet sobs wracked his body.

Wander set the tissue box gently on the desk and rubbed Stan’s back. “There, there, if you got the fuel for it once, you can do it again right? One more day shouldn’t hurt?” Stan continued to weep, gripping his hair and not saying a word.

Sylvia took a tissue from the box and mopped up the coffee, setting the mug on top of the desk, next to a picture of two teens in boxing gloves. She stacked the books, looking them over as she did and set them on the floor next to the desk. _This is where Wander shines,_ she thought to herself, _helping people get to the root of their problems so we can move on. We’ll be out of here in no time, I hope._

Stan’s sniffling slowed and he dried his eyes with the tissues. He finally spoke, though broken up with sobs. “’S not ju-just the fuel. I got ‘t wrong. I was su-supposed ta-ta track where he is. So he can wa-walk through. Come home. If that’s s-not where he is… where is he? Did he g-go s-somewhere else? Was he there ba-before? I-I-I jus’ don’t know.”

“I’m sure we can figure this out,” Wander replied. “I’m not quite following though. Do you think you could start from the beginning?”

Stan dried his eyes again and tried to even out his breathing before beginning. ”Ok.”

“My brother’s Stanford, and I’m Stanley. We’re twins. ‘S not all that common for more than one person to get carried and born at the same time here. We grew up together but he was the smart guy and I was the tougher joker. So when he looked like he was getting on to bigger and better things, a full ride to a school that woulda taught him all sorts of stuff he was int’rested in, smart guy science stuff, I got angry I was being left behind. So I accidentally broke his experiment that would have gotten him accepted. We had a fight and when our dad found out he tossed me out.”

“I lived on my own for a while doing whatever to make ends meet, living on the road most times. Apparently he ran into some bad news after college, an’ more than 10 years since we had last seen each other he sends a postcard with jus’ ‘Please come!’ on it. So a course I come running, thinking he wants to get things good b’tween us again.”

“I show up here and he’s super on edge, beyond paranoid, sayin’ he doesn’t know who he can trust. I try to calm him down an’ he brings me down here. He shows me that,” he pointed at the portal through the control room’s window, “and hands me this,” pulling out the journal from the shelf ”telling me to go hide it ‘where no one can find it.’ So I get mad, thinking he called for me jus’ to shove me out the door jus’ as fast with a damn errand. We get into a row about who’s had it harder and a course he doesn’t actually tell me anything so I pull out a lighter and ‘m about to burn this infernal thing when ‘e tackles me to the ground and in our scuffle we turn on the portal. He gets me good an’ after socking him in the jaw I shove the journal in his hands and without realizin’ over the safety line. He floats into the damn portal and all I can do is stand there an’ stare luck the dumbass I am. He tosses the book back at me an’ ever since ‘ve been pretending to be him and trying to get it to work.” He finished with a sigh, “Course I don’t have the education he had, so trying to get it all right the first time didn’t go so well.”

“Yikes,” Sylvia regarded him with a frown.

“That’s why every day counts. I don’t know where he ended up or how dangerous it was but I am responsible for whatever happened to him. It’s my fault it happened and every day I wish it was me and not him who fell in. He coulda gotten me out in maybe a week. But I still haven’t brought him home, and it's been years. I've gotta fix this, now. I'm gonna stay up till its done. No breaks, no dallying. I was so close, and if I can make the needed adjustments I might be able to get the fuel tonight and have him home before sun-up tomorrow.”

"Stanley," Wander started but Stan cut him off.

"Stan. Just Stan."

"Stan," Wander continued, "I understand that this is a heavy burden you carry, the worry of the fate of your brother, but you've got to take care yourself too. It doesn't do either of you any good to push yourself to this physically and emotionally exhausted state when it is detrimental to your judgment and just makes it harder to reach your goal. You look hungry and dead tired." He paused to reach into the hat and pulled out a muffin with some sort of reddish berries dotting its surface. "You should eat something." Stan reached toward it, but paused before his hand closed around it.

"Did you just... pull that thing out of your hat?" Stan asked.

"Yes I did," Wander replied with a smile.

"Its magic, isn't it?"

"Yes sir!"

Stan jumped up and grabbed Wander by the shoulders. "You don't think it could pull my brother out of there, do you?" He shouted, shaking Wander slightly.

"I don't know if it'll work that way," Sylvia replied.

"Maybe not," Stan answered, not dimming his enthusiasm, "but if not him, then the other journal maybe? They're what have the other half of this plan," he said letting go of Wander and pulled the journal off the desk, opening it to the central diagram. "That's what shows how the portal works! So do you think your magic hat can do it? How does it work?"

"It can give you anything you need..." Wander started.

"...but not what you want." Sylvia finished.

"Nothing can ever be that easy, huh?" Stan muttered.

"Yeah, not so much." Sylvia replied. Wander set the muffin on the desk and turned back to his audience.

"So Mr. Hat, lets see what you have," Wander declared with flourish as he reached into the hat, shoulder deep. He first pulled out a long metal case and a small manual. Next came two pairs of thick rubber gloves, one set for Sylvia's thick three-fingered hands and one for Wander's smaller four-fingered ones. He's about to stick his hand back in when Sylvia calls to him.

"Wait!" she said pausing until she saw Wander stop and retract his hand. "Maybe you should put those on first, bucko."

"Good idea, Syl," he replied, placing the hat back on and putting on the gloves. "Always looking out for me."

"Well somebody's gotta do it," she remarked with a smirk.

Stan picked up the case and book as Sylvia put on her own pair of gloves. Opening it, he found a tool that looked somewhat like a blowtorch with a much smaller nozzle and fuel tank with a saw bit attached to the nozzle. The booklet was instructions for the device, surprisingly in English, called a "heat slick saw".

Now gloved, Wander reached into his hat once more and gripped something heavy. He set the hat down and reached into it with both hands, bobbing his head in slightly and Sylvia came over to wrap her hands around his waist, keeping him from spilling inside. With a forceful tug, Wander pulled out a smaller one of those barrels, similar to what Stan was filling the fuel tanks, with a stopper in the hole. Stan's mouth fell open as he looked up from the heat slick saw's instructions and saw Wander pull out 2, 3, 4, a half-dozen of those barrels before pausing. He removed his gloves and wiped his brow. Reaching in with an ungloved hand Sylvia yanked him back and tutted. She instead reached in with her clean, gloved hand and pulled out a book and a small leather case. "Well I guess that's it for the fuel. Do you think that'll be enough?" She noted. Wander picked up the book and regarded it quizzically.

"'Overcoming Your Codependency Issues'?" Wander puzzled.

"Yeah, sure, like that's gonna help me now," Stan grumbled. He opened the leather case and found a heavy-duty electric razor. He growled. "Got anything else?" He went in for himself and felt his hand close around something in what felt like a cool abyss. Another book, not the journal, but a large tome that just had "Daddy Issues" plastered on the front. He tossed it aside and reached in again pulling out a PBJ sandwich. He glared at the hat and finished his sandwich in two large bites.

"Why don't we start filing up that fuel tank and see if that does the trick?" Sylvia asked.

"Ok," Stan replied starting to walk towards where he kept his own pair if gloves but paused. "Actually, hold up. If we're gonna be going at this for a bit, I wanna keep the shop closed for the day. Lemme write up a note for the customers and my employees." He sat down at the desk while Wander looked at the instruction for the heat slick saw and Sylvia began pouring the waste into the fuel tank.

Pulling out pencil and paper from the desk's shelf, Stan scrawled out in his blocky handwriting a short note.

_Family emergency, closed for the day. Be back tomorrow._

_-Stan Pines_

_PS Cops, I'm not home, I took the bus, leave any tickets and warrants in my mailbox._

Standing up he turned toward Wander.

"Wander," he asked sternly, "can you take this upstairs and post it to the door of the gift shop? That's the top floor of the elevator, just follow the hall up the stairs and once you come through the big machine covering the doorway, its the door with the glass window. You can see woods on the outside. There should be some tape to stick it to that window in a shelf on the underside of the counter if you walk along the right wall as soon as you leave the at the top of the stairs." Stan looked at his watch and groaned. 6:30. "There shouldn't be anyone outside but if there is just stand still and pretend you're an exhibit until they're not looking.

"You got it, Stan." Wander replied giving a thumbs up.

"Wait, one sec," Stan regarded him, "I don't suppose you know how to make coffee do you?" Wander shook his head. "'S really easy. From the gift shop go through the doorway with the curtain. Pass through that room an' into another hall." Wander pulled a notepad and pen out from his hat and began to write. "On your left there are stairs and go to the right to find the kitchen. There you'll find a white machine on the counter with a glass jar in it. Fill up the jar with water from the tap. If you open the lid on top you'll find an empty spot with lines marking how many cup ya put in, so pour that water there. Then put the jar back where you found it. Above the spot for the jar there's a slide out cylindrical compartment, pull that out and dump the coffee grounds and filter in the trash under the sink. In the cabinet above and to the left of the sink, there's coffee in a blue tin, and paper filters next to it. Take the filter and lay it flat in that cylindrical part. Then take one scoop of coffee for every two cups of water. Put that cylindrical part back into its slot and hit the on switch in the left side of the machine. Give it about 10 minutes and it'll finish. Should be a fresh cup to pour it in the drying rack next to the sink. Any ceramic cup with a handle will be fine." He paused. "Ya got all that?"

"One scoop coffee for two cups water, on switch on the left side, ceramic mug on drying rack." Wander replied nodding. "How many cups should I make?"

"6 at least. If you leave the coffee maker on it'll just keep it warm so I can send you up for more later if we need it. If you're hungry, there's food in the fridge and in the lower cabinets. If you need to heat something, use the stove, the good pots are to the upper right of the fridge. Try not to start a fire."

"You got it!" Wander replied with a salute and turned to take the elevator, notepad in hand and hat returned to its proper place.

Stan turned and found Sylvia pouring the second barrel. He fished his gloves out of a nearby box and picked up the third barrel getting ready to pour when she was done. "Think your little buddy can handle it?"

"Oh yeah," she replied. "When someone's in need, he'll do anything to help."

"Lets hope you two can do more than I've been able to do on my own this last six years."


	2. Alien Houseguests

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally found time to update! Spoiler warning for a bit of Wander and Sylvia’s past, as well as some blatant speculation of how they became friends. If you want to watch up to where this chapter spoils, it’s the first half of season 2, including “The Waste of Time”. Blatant speculation begins at “Some fancy-pants big-shot” and the only canon in that paragraph includes the note about “Wandering Weirdo” and the sack.
> 
> Also, Stan is much more of a potty mouth in this chapter. No f bombs, but be aware that there's more swearing. 
> 
> Quick note, there is a discussion about planets, and Stan indirectly says there a 4 planets smaller than Earth, but this takes place in the late 80’s, so at that point in time, Pluto is still considered a planet. Don’t throw me under the bus; I know it’s a dwarf planet now.

Wander hummed a gentle tune as he waited for the elevator to reach its top floor. When the door slid open he came to a room surrounded by button and electric lights, with a long wood-floored hallway leading out. He pulled Stan’s note from his notepad and followed the dim hallway upstairs with eyes wide. When reaching the top of the stairs he pushed the heavy door into a room covered with wood paneling and scattered knickknacks. Closing the door with the vending machine over its front most of the way as he turned to his right to find the counter with the register.

Wander flinched slightly at the eyeballs in a jar and taxidermy bearicorn head on the counter and wall respectively. “Well, hopefully Stan won’t ask me to be in this room _too_ often”, Wander pondered to himself. Going around the counter and fishing out the tape he looked around the gift shop to find bobble toys, t-shirts, bumper stickers and snow globes. That brought a smile back to Wander’s face. “If it wasn’t for the disembodied creatures this would be a lovely little establishment,” he said quietly aloud.

He approached the door with the window and stood on his toes, peering out. Tall, green, pointed-top trees dotted the landscape with a large clearing directly in front of the building. Nodding thoughtfully, he taped the note facing out to the door and smiled; his first task complete. He placed the tape back where it belonged and turned to find the doorway with the curtain. Its red color caught his eye quickly. His mind shifted to the next task and parted the curtain, stepping through.

Down the hall he went and stepped to the right into a cozy but messy kitchen. Books, papers and glasses covered a round table. A nearly empty glass bottle sat next to a stack of books, less than a fourth left of dark liquid left in the fancy looking clear bottle. On the counter-tops sat a toaster, dirty dishes, the drying rack and the object of interest, glittering white: the coffee maker. Wander took the jar from the device and went to and went load it from the sink, finding it further lined with dirty dishes, mostly sliverwear, a grime encrusted casserole dish and a few glasses. He glanced at the notepad to make remind himself of his instructions and turned on the sink to fill the coffee maker’s jug to the 8-cup line.

Turning off the tap and flipping open the coffee maker’s top Wander dumped the water into an empty compartment along the device’s side. He then turned his attention to the upper left hand cabinet. He pulled out the coffee and filters, disposing of the old one in the slide-out slot in top part of the coffee maker, scooping in 4 spoonfulls of the ground beans on top of the filter. He slid the compartment closed and flicked on the machine with a switch on its left side. “There,” he muttered. “Now for the waiting.”

He looked around the room and frowned at the mess. “This simply won’t do.” He pulled out the notepad and went to work on the books and papers on the kitchen table. Any open books he placed blank sheets ripped from his notepad marking their place, closed them, and stacked them neatly into two piles with the loose papers on the bottom. The glasses he brought over to the sink and began looking through cabinets for the home of the dark liquid bottle. Opening one of the bottom cabinets he found others like it and an empty spot on the shelf for it. With care he placed it into its home. “There, table’s nice and tidy now.” The coffee maker rumbled loudly as Wander cleaned, but looking over, it wasn’t full, so he turned his attention to the sink.

Next he went to the counter and took out the few dishes in the drying rack, save for a single mug that he placed next to the coffee maker, finding their places in the kitchen shortly. He got gloves from beneath the sink and got to work on the dishes, glasses first, with the sponge and dish soap on the counter. Next he moved onto the caked on casserole dish, scrubbing hard ‘til it shined. The stack of plates and bowls beside the sink were next to go and finally the utensils at the sink’s bottom. He wet a paper towel from the roll next to the sink as the water drained and wiped down the countertop, going over his work with a dry one shortly after, finishing his work by wiping the sink’s basin. “Much better,” he remarked quietly. Now Stan can come up to an uncluttered kitchen when all is said and done.”

The coffee machine still hissed and sputtered, as Wander looked around the kitchen once more to see if there was anything else that needed doing. He was momentarily distracted when his stomach made a low gurgle. “Hm,” he mumbled, “guess I should probably find something to eat.”

Wander turned his attention to the fridge, opening it and peering inside. It wasn’t barren, but there wasn’t much to speak of, either. On the top shelf there was a carton of milk to the right, a glass pitcher of water in the center and a plastic bottle of something called ‘Pitt Soda’. The next shelf down had a flimsy looking rectangular shaped container with a single egg in it. Next to it was half a loaf of bread and a drawer with thin sliced meat and cheese as well as sausages. The bottom shelf had some plastic containers with various things in them that bore closer inspection. Below that was two drawers barren of anything except a browning banana. In the door were jars and bottles, mayo, ketchup, syrup, 2 flavors of Jam, pickles, a jar with a red sauce and a cylindrical plastic tube with something called "parmesan cheese". Taking a closer look at the clear plastic containers on the bottom shelf, one was a pasta with a chunky red meat sauce, one was some sort of ground meat cut into thick slices in a brown gravy, a mashed spud with some ground herbs and the last one was some sort of fried bird wing and thigh.

Wander frowned.

“Stan, don’t you know there’s things in the great wide galaxy besides meats?” Wander stopped and mused to himself, “well, maybe there’s not much that’s not meat here. Who knows?” He had to keep open minded. First he took out the bread and up them into the toaster on low. He didn’t know how quickly the device cooked so to avoid burning it, it would be better to air on the side of caution. Next he took out the pasta with meat sauce, since he thought that would be a good enough sized meal for Sylvia, or Stan if he was hungry too. He found a small saucepan in the cabinet to the right of the fridge and put the thick-sauced pasta on low on one of the stove’s burners. He fished out the banana from the fridges bottom door and put it on a plate. Next he took out the two jars of jam and took a clean butter knife to taste both of them. The dark red one was a bit too tart but the orangey one was right up his alley. After washing both knives and putting away the less appetizing of the two jams he set the winner of the jams on the counter next to the toaster just in time for the toast to pop up. He spread the jams on his bread and gave the meaty sauce on the stovetop a stir.

With a glance over at the coffee maker he saw it was done. Just a bit longer on the pasta and he would be back down in the basement with his ol’ pal Sylvia and his new friend Stan. Wander hoped he would be able to help Stan get his brother back, and would be able to mediate them getting along again. It sounded like those two had a lot of talking to do but Wander couldn’t help but think that even as grumpy as Stan was, there he a good person, and that he deserved to find happiness and have family again. Poor guy was probably just lonely, and until they got things going again, he would just have to work hard to make him smile.

After all, there were a lot of people that needed help back where he and Sylvia came from, but they would come back eventually, right?

* * *

Down in the basement Stan stood leaning against the console listening to the sloshing of the radioactive material pouring into the tank of his brother’s machine from the barrel in his hands. He knew that the six barrels he had wouldn’t be enough to fill the entire tank but it would be at least enough to see if the machine would start or if another part of the machine malfunctioned during the last time the portal opened. It wouldn’t do well to get his hopes up that the portal up and running in just a few minutes, but letting himself feel hopeless would be detrimental to his goal. It would be best to keep his mind occupied while he waited for the barrels to be emptied into the tank, so he tried his hand at striking up a conversation with his interdimensional guest.

“So, uh, Sylvia,” he started, Sylvia perked up as she heard her name called, “you kinda got the gist of my story earlier, what’s your and Wander’s story? Are ya family or something?”

“No, we’re not related, if that’s what you mean.” She replied. “We met under _not the best_ of circumstances, but eventually we formed an understanding with each other and started traveling the galaxy together. We’ve seen all sorts of sights, met some interesting characters and helped all sorts of folks.”

“So is space travel basically normal where you come from? Everybody and their mom’s got a ship or somethin’?”

“’Everybody and their mom?’” She parroted. “Is that some kind of common phrase here?”

“Oh heh,” he laughed. “Sorry, its gonna take me a minute to get used to the fact that you won’t be used to Earth colloquialisms. Its just a phrase that means ‘just about everyone.’”

“Ah,” she replied, pausing momentarily. “Ships around our neck of the woods are pretty common but for very small groups of people traveling the stars the common method of travel is stuff called ‘Orbal juice.’ It’s a little liquid that can form bubbles to keep a small amount of atmosphere inside walking from planet to planet. A lot of planets are small and you don’t even have to be high up to get floating off of. Some bigger planets are harder and have more so gravity you have to go on mountains or space ports to get your orbals going.”

“Guess our dimension must be weird then, all our ships for planets an’ moons need a ton of energy to break through the atmosphere. Humans, my species, have only sent people to our moon ‘cause it’s so hard, but we’ve sent unmanned ships out farther. We only have one moon on our planet, and very few people have ever been on it.”

“Oh, that’ll be disappointing to Wander, but how big is this planet? If it has that strong of gravity the planet must be pretty big.”

“I know out of the planets that have enough ground to stand on we’re just slightly bigger than the next smallest and there are 3 smaller than that in our solar system, but we’ve got 4 giant gas planets that have crazy atmosphere, but nowhere to walk. The planets are super far apart from each other so I doubt he would ever get to one by walking anyway. I’m not an expert though.”

“Ok, but how big are we talking here? That only sort of answered my question.”

“The problem is I’m not sure what units you guys would use. I know that when we were still using wind power it would be a big deal for a ship using wind-powered sales to travel across an ocean of water that would take less than a couple months.”

Sylvia whistled.

“Yeah, and there’s a big ocean on either side of this landmass we’re on,” Stan continued.

“How big is the landmass? And what’s it called?”

“North America and depending on where you start it can take from half a year to a whole year to travel on foot, unless you go way south first. The country we’re in is The United States of America, but the country south is Mexico and it has a shorter route from sea to sea as its far less wide at the southern most parts.”

“So landmasses aren’t just one civilization all the way across?”

“Nope, they’re sometimes separated geographically by a river or mountain but often people have differences in beliefs or ancestry that makes them feel the have to keep others out and form borders of their nation.”

“Yowza.”

“Is that a swearword I need to know in your language?”

“Hah,” Sylvia barked a laugh, “no.”

Stan had been so distracted by the conversation he hadn’t noticed the barrel he was holding had emptied. He went to grab one of the others but Sylvia already had it uncorked and approached the machine so he backed over to lean against one of the other machines and gave her room to pour.

“So what was the place you came from like?” He asked, trying to keep the flow of their chat going.

“Oh, it was ok,” she replied with little enthusiasm. “Very rocky, not huge, a few fresh water bodies to keep life going, very hard to survive, if you were a smaller creature. Ya had to work hard to get enough food on the table. We’ve got a bit of a meat culture, not too much vegetation.”

“You’ll fit in here then, the USA’s got a thing for Bacon and Hamburgers, both meat dishes.” He paused when he saw a puzzled frown on her face. “Oh right, the USA is just another name for ‘United States of America.’”

“Ah… What’s Bacon like? We have burgers, ground meat patties, right?”

“Yeah, bacon is long strips of fatty meat cooked in oil to crispy perfection.”

“I think I might have to try that.”

“Well I gotta hit the store in the next day or so, so if you’re still here I’ll get some for ya.”

“You do have things that aren’t meat here, right? Otherwise Wander won’t be a happy camper just having to eat whatever the hat gives him.”

“We got bread an’ things that go on it. I probably have some rice in my pantry he could make something with. He’s a vegetarian?”

“Whenever he can be. Sometimes it just isn’t possible but he avoids meat in general.”

“I shoulda figured that he was based on his fashion sense. He puts off that _hippie_ vibe.”

“’Hippie?’” She repeated.

“Nature-lovin’. Doesn’t wanna do no harm to nothin’ and can sometimes be pushy trying to get you to follow their _‘free spirit’_ path.” He paused. “Its not the worst thing to be but not always a compliment either.”

“That doesn’t really sound like all that of a bad thing,” she replied, with a slight edge to her voice. “I suppose there’s a reason you don’t have a high opinion of _hippies_?”

“I was dating someone who got pursued by a hippie musician and she left me for him.” He replied solemnly and added curtly, “I think that’s a good enough reason to not have the highest opinion of ‘em.”

Sylvia stepped away from the console and put down the empty barrel giving Stan room to come forward with the next barrel. The sound of the sloshing waste calmed his temper enough to bring his voice to a more even tone.

“It doesn’t sound like you two have a ton in common, ya know? What’d you do to meet in the first place?”

Sylvia paused. She contemplated a spot on the floor before asking quietly, “are there parts of your past, besides the accidents with your brother, that you aren’t proud of?” She looked up at him for a moment and saw his uncertain expression before he closed his mouth and nodded. She continued, “’cause the reason he and I met is one of those for me.”

“Oh,” Stan replied, his voice small. “Yeah, I, uh, did some things that I probably would never tell my ma if given the chance. Stole things, cheated at gambling, defrauded people, sold illegal things and hurt people. I’m not proud.”

The room was quiet for a moment, save for the sloshing sound of the waste from the barrel.

“I had to do some not-so-nice things to survive for a while.” Sylvia said. “If it hadn’t been for Wander I might have never turned my life around. I regret the things I did, but I’m glad he helped me be a better person than I was.”

Another stretch of quiet filled the room.

Stan smirked, trying to ease the mood with a lighthearted tone, “So whad’ja do? Work for an alien mob boss? Sell weapons to an intergalactic warlord? Breed exotic space creatures in a puppy mill?” He paused for a beat. “Sorry that last one might be lost on ya, puppy mills are terrible conditions for animals in real small and filthy living conditions that are usually sold in run-down pet shops.”

“I was a bounty hunter.”

“…No… Really?” Stan replied. “Well shit, I never would ‘a pegged you for that.”

“Hey.” Sylvia barked.

“Eh?”

“I may not know _exactly_ what it means, but I think I can get the context.” Sylvia curtly replied. Stan frowned, furrowing his brow. Before he could reply, Sylvia continued. “Look, I’ll be honest, I don’t care all that much if you swear, but I had to bring it up, because Wander does. He’s usually too polite to say anythin’, _especially_ considering how _upset_ you were during your story, but just watch your language around him, please?”

Stan paused. “I can’t make promises, unless you prefer pretty lies, but I’ll try. I don’t always remember to watch my mouth around kids, but I’ll try to keep in mind he’s more sensitive than most.”

“Thank you,” she replied. “That’s all I can ask.”

“Good, cause I don’t exactly have much to offer,” he joked, clearing his throat.

She picked up the final barrel and moved forward as Stan stepped out of the way. He pulled his gloves off, one at a time by the wrist, pealing them away and putting them in a plastic bag he had stored in a box shoved in the corner. Sylvia eyed him curiously as he pulled a container of wipes and cleaned his hands before disposing of the dirty cloth in a bin underneath the desk in front of the console. He stifled a cough and then fished a hard candy out from under the desk’s bookshelf, and popped in his mouth.

“What’s that?” Sylvia asked.

“Oh, sorry, this is just a lozenge for sore throats.” Stan answered, his voice muffled slightly by the lozenge producing more saliva in his mouth, “I’m thirsty and this’ll help soothe my throat while I wait for the coffee.”

Sylvia nodded.

“I get if you don’t wanna tell me about your experience as a head-hunter,” Stan said tentatively, “so I won’t be mad if you tell me to drop it, but how did you being a bounty hunter lead to you two crossing paths?”

“Well that’s simple,” she replied, “he had a bounty on his head, and I took it. I didn’t even know his name at the time, or why someone wanted him dead in the first place.”

“Really?” he asked incredulously. “Well now you gotta give me a little more than that or I won’t be able to think of anything else all day.”

“Some fancy-pants big-shot conqueror wanted me to bring Wander to him for big bucks. There was no name on the file I saw, just a few photos and a short video clip. I was looking for a big payoff, not to ask questions. I got a ride to the planet he was on from a group I was a part of, before Orbal Juice was so common, and pinned him down and threw him in a sack. I called him a ‘wandering weirdo’ and the name just stuck. Before I knew it, we got trapped to some caves by an avalanche and he saved my life. I didn’t reform overnight but I did agree not to turn him in. Eventually, we became friends, and now we’re the best of buds, and I’m a reformed bounty hunter turned hero.”

“Huh, well that’s a pretty strange turn, but I’ve heard weirder. Hey wait,” Stan replied, the hard-candy knocking against his teeth with the ‘t,’ “you said that you just called him ‘wandering weirdo’ but never said that was actually his name. So ‘Wander’ is a nickname you gave him?”

“Yup.” She answered, popping the ‘p’ sound.

“So what’s his real-“

With that, the elevator opened and Wander entered the room with a tray that Stan wasn’t sure he had ever seen before filled with food. There was a coffee mug on a bread plate with a spoon and 2 sugar cubes from his sugar dish behind the coffee maker, a plate of his leftover pasta, 2 empty bowls, several forks and another plate with toast and jam and a single banana on it.

“Howdy folks,” Wander declared with a smile as he strolled in.

“Oh great,” Stan sighed happily, “I’ve been itching for that coffee.”

“Good,” Wander replied, “but you should eat something with it.” If Wander noticed a difference in Stan’s speaking from the lozenge, he didn’t comment on it.

“Did you eat anything yet?” Stan asked, sitting on the lone desk chair.

“No, but-“ Wander started, setting the tray on the desk.

“Uh-uh.” Stan interrupted. “You made the food, you should get first pick.”

Wander hesitated before replying “I liked the taste of the jam but I don’t know if I can eat both pieces of toast by myself. Would you like to split it with me?”

“Just take it.” Stan answered, passing the plate to Wander.

“Ok then,” Wander said, sitting down on the floor and picking up a piece of Jam smattered bread. “Sylvia, that pasta is for both of you, I don’t want any, but you should take some before it gets cold. That’s what the bowls are for.”

“Almost done buddy,” She replied.

“Don’t forget to clean your hands before you eat,” Wander remarked, pulling his hat off with his free hand, setting it on the ground and pulling out a damp sponge to offer to her.

“Eat.” Stan ordered, taking the sponge from Wander. Wander replaced his hat after drying the damp hand inside it, and took the slice of toast with both hands. He looked at it before taking a tentative bite.

“Mmmm,” Wander said contentedly, after swallowing. “I liked the jam when I tried a little upstairs, not with my hands of course, I got 2 knives to taste them both, but this bread is different than most I’ve tried and the sweet of the jam blends so well with that tangy taste; its lovely.”

“You like that, huh?” Stan asked cordially. “The bread is sourdough, and that jam’s a peach-strawberry mix I got on sale at the local grocer. Guess you didn’t care for the berry blend?”

“It was a bit tart for my tastes,” Wander replied, “but this is delightful.” He continued to take small, slow bites to savor the flavor.

Sylvia put the barrel down and peeled her gloves off before approaching. Stan offered her the sponge; she wiped her hands and returned the sponge to Stan, shaking her hands dry before sitting on the floor. Wander gestured to Stan with a free hand, Wander’s mouth too occupied with chewing to speak, indicating to Stan that he should use it as well. With a sigh, he cleaned them and placed the sponge in the top left corner of the desk before wiping them dry on the tissues that Wander had pulled from his hat earlier. Stan’s cheeks pinked slightly remembering how he had bawled in front of, essentially, two strangers, but there was nothing to be done about that now, he supposed.

He spat his lozenge into the used tissue and tossed it away in the small garbage bin underneath the desk, and turned his attention to the spread of food on the tray. He grabbed a fork from the tray, jabbed a small portion of the pasta with it, twirled it to get a bit more around the fork and then hovered it over the empty bowl, shaking gently to get the spaghetti to fall off his utensil. He pulled the bowl into his lap and got to work serving most of what was left of the pasta into the second bowl and gestured to Sylvia.

“That look like it’ll be enough, right?” Stan asked.

“It’ll be fine, Stan.” Sylvia replied. “Thank you.”

Stan scraped the last of what was on the plate of pasta into his bowl and took a bite. It wasn’t as good without the cheese he had upstairs but he wasn’t going to interrupt the meal to go get it now. Sometimes food was just food, even when you had a safe place to eat it in. His mind drifted unwittingly to times when survival was far more important than taste or pride and had to eat freshly tossed food from a diner’s trash, or unfinished fast-food bags. He shuddered slightly at the memory. He glanced up and at the others but they hadn’t noticed, both tucking into their meals silently, smiling quietly.

He finished the small amount of food he had served himself and turned his attention to the coffee. He looked at the spoon and a few sugar cubes sat that on a bread plate but couldn’t care enough to about it ask when he was definitely feeling telltale signs of fatigue and his temporary cure was just in front of him. He spooned the sugar cubes in and pulled his tucked-away coffee creamer from the bookshelf on the desk, along with a few more sugar cubes he had stored in a small plastic storage container. Stan poured and mixed creamer and sugar into the coffee and looked up to see Wander and Sylvia regarding him curiously.

“What?” he remarked.

Sylvia and Wander shared a look, before Sylvia nodded to Wander indicating he should speak first.

“What’s the stuff in the little bottle, Stan?” Wander asked.

“An’ do ya really need _that_ much sugar?” Sylvia added dryly.

“I _do_ ,” Stan grumbled, “and this stuff,” he gestured at the bottle, “is coffee creamer, to give it a lighter and slightly different flavor. This way, I can buy cheap bulk coffee and have it taste like those fancier coffee blends. Plus I don’t need to keep it in the fridge like milk.”

“Ah,” they chorused, before turning back to their meal.

Stan quietly nursed his coffee as he waited for them to finish. Sylvia and Wander split the last piece of toast and Wander pressed the banana into Stan’s hand with little protest, which he finished quickly. After the meal, Wander tidied up and took the dishes upstairs and brought down another cup of coffee for Stan, this time with more sugar cubes than before. He set mug on the desk and waited for Stan’s instructions. Stan took the six-fingered gloves out of the box he had stored them in earlier, and pulled them on with a snap. He walked over to the switch and turned towards Wander and Sylvia.

“Stand back,” Stan said boisterously, “and cover your ears. If this works, its gonna be loud and flashy.”

Sylvia backed up a few paces in front of the elevator door and looked to the portal through the window. Wander pulled out noise canceling headphones out of his hat for the three of them, gave a pair to Stan and then went to stand next to Sylvia. They put their headphones on in unison as Stan flipped the switch. A few lights lit up on the machine the switch was attached to but quickly dimmed. Stan glared at it fiercely.

“Work, you stupid piece of junk,” he growled, hammering on its side with his fist. It didn’t respond. He pulled of his gloves and threw them on the ground, his eyes still locked angrily on the machine.

“Alright,” Sylvia called, taking off the headphones as she strolled closer. “There’s probably some sort of wiring issue, based on the fact that not everything turned on but this power station tried to. Maybe if we take some of these panels off and see if there are any loose or frayed wires we might be able to make some progress.”

“Being a Grumpy Gus isn’t going to help get things going Stan,” Wander interjected, patting Stan on the shoulder, “but we’ll do our best to get things up and running just as soon as we can.”

Stan let out a deep sigh and pulled out the box the gloves were stored in, grabbing some screwdrivers and a handful of spare wires. “Then lets get to work.”

For a few hours the trio spent time taking off paneling and peeking around in the control room for problem areas. Wires and screws were tightened or replaced with far less trouble than Stan was used to. It was definitely a help to have someone small to get into tight nooks and someone to hold the flashlight while he worked. Sylvia had far more expertise than he expected, but there wasn’t much she could make of the instructions Ford had left. She definitely knew more about the circuitry than Stan did and was pretty handy with a soldering iron. Despite this, they only got most of the lights to go on through the control room and the scanner still wasn’t working.

After taking another quick snack break at Wander’s insistence, which consisted of lunchmeat and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, they turned their attention to the portal room. They first poked around with the large cylindrical lights near the portals base but it hardly needed any work. The portal itself was intimidating but after taking another look at the heat slick saw instructions they found it could be used to open up the side paneling of it. After making sure the system was unplugged they thought they should take a look inside the heart of the beast. Wander was the only one small enough to fit, but he was handy enough at adjusting screws and finding frayed wires, once equipped with a headlamp. Sylvia stuck her head inside the portal to offer instructions and Stan passed the pair tools and parts as they were needed. Some of the circuitry looked damaged, but unfortunately there weren’t parts that could just be picked up at the hardware store and they did the best patch-job they could before sealing the portal’s side back up.

They tried the switch again. More lights this time but the scanner for tracking his brother’s signal was still unresponsive. Stan fatigue was starting to show.

“Look Stan,” Sylvia said, regarding him gently, “Maybe we should call it for tonight. You look like you’re just a slight breeze away from falling on your face.”

“I’ll get you two set-up upstairs but I’ve got to go get the fuel for the Portal.” Stan replied sternly. “You two shouldn’t travel far from the Shack; people freak out when they see things they don’t understand, and if you aren’t close by it’ll be hard to write off that you’re one of my exhibits. Plus these woods are dangerous especially at night if you don’t know what you’re doing.”

“Are you gonna be ok travelin’ by yourself when you’re this tired?” Wander asked fretfully.

“Don’t worry about me,” he answered gruffly. “Come on, I’ll show you to the bathroom and we’ll figure out where you can sleep.” They followed him into the elevator and up into the gift shop. Wander shrunk slightly and clung behind Sylvia as she stared around curiously.

“So what are these things anyway?” Sylvia wondered aloud. “You never really told us what you did for work, just mentioned you had a gift shop up here.”

Stan cleared his throat and then called with as much enthusiasm as he could muster after a very long all-nighter, “Welcome to the Mystery Shack!” He waggled his fingers dramatically. “A fixture of the Oregon tourist scene, the Mystery Shack has wonders not seen before by human or other species eyes! Behold the mighty Bearicorn head and Aztec Calendar! And for just fifteen bucks per person you can get you a personal tour by yours truly, Mr. Mystery,” he finished with a cough. “Sorry, got too caught up in the sales pitch. Most of these things I found or made with a few spare animal parts. They don’t call this area ‘Roadkill County’ for nothin’.”

Wander grimaced at that. Stan noticed his discomfort and added, “I guess sleeping here is a no-go, huh?”

“Well, its just all those eyeballs and the dead stuff are a little…” Wander said, trailing off and waiving his hand in a wishy-washy fashion.

“He’s creeped out.” Sylvia supplied bluntly.

“We don’t want to put you out, Stan,” Wander murmured, “but is there anywhere else that we won’t be in the way and isn’t this room?”

“Well I can put you up in the living room tonight,” Stan offered. “That’s just this way,” He pulled the curtain aside and they followed him from the hall into the living room. “One of you might be able to fit in the chair but I’ve got pillows for whoever needs to sleep on the floor.” Wander and Sylvia looked around at the cozy but oddly furnished room and smiled.

“We’ll make it work,” Sylvia said.

“It’s perfect Stan, Thanks.” Wander added.

“I’ll go get some extra blankets in case you get cold.” Stan said. “Wander follow me, I’ll show you the bathroom in case you need it.” Wander followed behind Stan closely.

“Thank you again for opening up your home to us, Stan.”

“I wasn’t exactly gonna make you sleep outside.”

“Well thanks anyway. We travel all over and often sleep outside, but it’s always nice to enjoy the warmth of a welcoming home.”

“It’s not my home but I’m gonna offer it while my brother’s away. I spent too many cold nights on my own sleeping in my drafty car, I’m not gonna push that kinda deal on anyone if I can help it.” Stan paused, and muttered quietly. “I just hope I don’t have to go back to sleeping in my car after all is said and done.”

“Oh Stan,” Wander said with a frown. “I’m sure you can fix things with your brother ‘til you can figure out a place for yourself.”

“Shi- Shoot, I didn’t mean to say that out loud.” Stan backpedalled. “Don’t worry about that, it’s not your problem. Let’s just see if we can get things up and running tomorrow and let me worry about everything after, alright?”

Wander pouted, but nodded. He would let it go for now, but he would try to help as much as he could as long as he was here. Stan showed him to the restroom, grabbed the spare blankets and pillows from the linen closet and walked back with Wander in tow. As they returned they found Sylvia curled up on the chair with her head raised and looking back at them sleepily.

“Looks like you lost out on the chair, Wander.” Stan said with a chuckle, placing the bedding on top of the dinosaur skull now used as an end-table.

“Nope.” Wander replied, and pulled himself on top of her curled up form, slipping his body up to his torso into his hat in one smooth motion.

“Well if you two can make it work, that’s what counts, right,” Stan said.

“Good night, Stan,” Sylvia called before laying her head down.

“Try not to stay up all night, Stan,” Wander remarked.

“Don’t worry about me,” he answered. “Good night, Wander and Sylvia.”

“Night,” Wander replied.

Stan walked down the hall and Wander waited until the footfalls had faded before asking “Syl, you still awake?”

“Yeah,” she answered sleepily.

“We gotta help Stan.”

“I know buddy, but we can’t help him get that fuel, he said don’t go far from the house.”

“Not about that. He’s working himself ragged, but we can’t fix that tonight. We have to help where we can on that front, tidy where we can, see if we can’t get him to eat better so he has more energy but this whole situation has got him worn down.”

“Well I can’t say I blame the guy.”

“He’s more worried than he lets on. He let it slip on the way to get the blankets he’s worried his brother is going to throw him out as soon as he get back.”

“Why would he worry about that?” She asked.

“’Cause it wouldn’t be the first time someone in his family did that,” he observed sadly.

“Well what can we do?”

“Figure out where he and his brother went wrong in their relationship and see if we can fix it the best we can on Stan’s end.”

“So you want us to try and bug him about his younger days so we can figure out what caused all this?”

“Exactly, this isn’t as simple as he made it in his story. I’m sure of it.”

“I don’t see him being the type to easily open up about this stuff.”

“Sylvia, I think he’s just about at the end of his rope. I’m worried. If we can’t get the portal running soon, I feel like he might just give up.”

“We’ll have to be there to prop him up while we figure this out.”

“Do you think we even can get it running again?” He asked.

“Maybe it just needs the fuel and for me to tinker with the scanner. I think I can do it, if it’s just that. But if there’s more things that need fixing, I’m not sure. It’s pretty complicated.”

“But it’s not hopeless, right?”

“With us working together, its never hopeless.”

“We haven’t failed in helping somebody yet. We’ll just do our best and keep Stan going until we can get back to traveling the stars.”

“Yeah. Night buddy,” Sylvia replied.

“Night.”

* * *

Stan tugged on his stealth gear and stared at himself in the mirror. His eyes were blood shot, but he had to go tonight to get the fuel for the portal. He glanced at the clock before walking towards the door. Just after 8pm. It was going to be another long night, but it would be worth it soon. He didn’t care how tired he was, he would do whatever it took to get the real Stanford Pines home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that’s the chapter! Thank you for being so patient. If you wanna chat about the chapter my blog is lightanddarklove.tumblr.com. I’d love someone to brainstorm ideas with, and wouldn’t mind a being a beta reader for someone who’d be up for beta reading my work :)
> 
> As for what’s next, this may be a series of one-shots and two-shots at some point. I do have an unfinished solo Stanford story pre-portal but after Bill reveals his betrayal that’s currently in the works. I also have an idea for what the next part in this series is but then I have a few ideas and don’t know which one would work next. If you’re curious, its Wander and Sylvia meet Stan’s fluffy little death omen, The Last Wandercorn and (spoilers for Journal 3) Wander meets the Kill Billy. If you have an opinion on which you’d like to see first, let me know! I’d also like to see other’s take on this concept as well.


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